


Coming Home

by WhirlwindWriter



Series: Happily Ever After Ending AU [2]
Category: The Property of Hate
Genre: All fluff really, But y'all liked the last one soooo., DadGB, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Happy Ever After AU, Here?, Hero POV, My writing remains fucking weird, like mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 18:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17944748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhirlwindWriter/pseuds/WhirlwindWriter
Summary: Hero finally makes it home.





	Coming Home

The paperwork took well and altogether too much time. Hours of sitting around in offices, of waiting behind closed doors while the adults talked. When all the papers had been written up, signed, organized, filesd, renegotiated, and whatever else, it had been weeks since she’d first been reunited with her friend, and it was dark. She was curled up on the couch in the living room, suitcase on the floor next to her, hugging a throw pillow and half asleep.

 

He’d promised her today was the day. He just had to clear up a last thing or two with the Smiths, and they would finally be able to go home, together. She’d packed up her things in the leather suitcase she’d saved from its life gathering dust in the attic, said her goodbyes to her foster siblings, and plopped down on the couch to wait.

 

And wait.

 

Aaaand wait.

 

Adults sure could talk a lot about nothing.

 

She fell asleep listening to muffled voices from behind the door, and woke to someone gently shaking her shoulder. “Hero,” he said quietly, “wake up now, it’s time to go.”   
  
She perked up. “We can go home?” And even though he was silhouetted by a shaft of warm, gold light from the kitchen, she could tell he was smiling.

 

“That’s right, my dear girl,” he said, voice tinged with emotion, “I can finally take you home.”

 

Drowsy, but invigorated by excitement, Hero picked up her suitcase, thanked Mr and Mrs Smith for taking care of her, giving them both one last hug before her once guide, now friend, took her hand (actually took her hand, what?!) and lead her out of the little blue house, down the street to the bus stop. They rode the bus through the city, and she had so many questions she wanted to ask and have answered, but the roll of the wheels lulled her to sleep again. The day had been long, and she was tired.

 

The next morning she would dimly remember being carried off the bus and down the street, to a red brick apartment building with flowers growing on it. She’d remember quiet voices, many familiar voices, quiet and excited, and one admonishing, “Hush, you’ll wake her!” She’d remember the feeling of fabric stretching and cradling her before she drifted into sweet dreams.

 

When she woke in the morning it was not to the smallish room in the Smiths’ house that she shared with Lily. It was to a room all her own, in a cozy nest of blankets and pillows in a hammock strung up between her very own trees, the sun’s beams peeking through the window curtains and warming her face. Both pairs of her boots next to the closet, her coat hung up on the lower branches of a tree, and the walls painted with murals of the World of Make Believe.

 

She smiled to herself, cuddling her blanket. She finally made it home.


End file.
